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17
LAYLA
Zac picked me up right on time for our date, and Lyndi had practicallyshovedme out the door, saying she had a date with her book boyfriend from a new romance novel she was reading. She was excited for a couch potato kinda night, and when I pointed out that nearly every night was a couch potato kinda night for us, she shut the door in my face.
Hooking his thumb toward the door, Zac quirked a brow. “I guess nothing’s really changed much with you two, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
We walked down the driveway toward his truck, and he opened my door, holding out a hand to help me get in. “The couch potato thing. Do you still go to bed at like eight o’clock on the dot?”
“Of course,” I replied, settling into my seat. “On weeknights, anyway. I still wake up before dawn, and I need my beauty sleep.”
I was eye level with him now, and he stepped closer, almost like he was being pulled to me like a magnet. Like he didn’t have a choice in the matter. I put a hand on his shoulder as he leaned in and kissed me.
His lips were warm as they moved over mine. The kiss was long and deep, and something about it had me wondering if he’d had a hard day at work. Back in the day, after a particularly rough shift, his kisses were always more intense, a heavier emotion behind them. It was almost like he was searching for something lighter that only I could provide.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead to mine. “Ah, beauty sleep. So, that’s your secret.”
Blushing, I gave him another quick peck, deciding not to ask him about work just yet. “Enough smooth-talking. I’m hungry.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He shut my door and rounded the front of the truck, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as he got in next to me. He looked so good in his black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled nearly to his elbows. As he reached for the radio, my eyes tracked the muscles in his forearm.
“Still like country music?” he asked, changing it to the local station where Garth Brooks crooned from the speakers.
“Yes, do you still hate it?”
“Yes. But it beats thePokémontheme song, lemme tell you.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never heard it.”
“You’re in for a treat when we go somewhere with Gray. I’ve got a whole playlist of his favorite songs, and it’s all we listen to when he’s with me.”
“What else is on the playlist?”
“Uh, let’s see, ‘Life is a Highway’ because of theCarsmovie, ‘It’s Raining Tacos’ and some other kid songs like that, music fromInto the Spider-Verse, and a little Weird Al Yankovic.”
I scowled. “Wait, what?”
“Nothing inappropriate. But some of them make him laugh for days. Like the one that’s set to the tune of ‘Beat It’ by Michael Jackson, only it’s ‘Eat It,’ and it’s all about parents telling their kids to eat their veggies and stuff. He says it should be my theme song.”
More laughter bubbled out of me as I imagined such a silly song and also the image of Zac singing along to it, having fun with his son like that. It tugged at my heartstrings, making me simultaneously wish I could witness it and also afraid to step into their bubble. They seemed like they had this amazing, happy life together, and I didn’t want to mess it up. More than that, I didn’t want to fall in love with them as a family if I was only going to wind up losing them.
I stared out the windshield, sobering at that thought.Huh. Maybe I kind of saw where Zac’s fear had taken control back then. Not that it excused the choices he made, but still. It was interesting.
“What’s up?” he asked, reaching over to take my hand as he drove us toward Main Street. “You seem different all of a sudden.”
“Oh, I’m fine. I was lost in thought. Um, how was work?”
“Good. Well, it ended up being good. Started that way, too, with a night shift patrolman telling us a funny story. But the middle? That was a little rough.”
I bit my lip, my suspicion confirmed. “Wanna talk about it?”
He pulled into a spot in front of the restaurant and put the truck in park, then reached over and picked up my hand again from where it rested on my lap. He kissed my palm, then moved my hand so it cupped his cheek, leaning into it.
“No, I don’t really wanna talk about it, if that’s okay.”
